


Balls

by Nara_ism



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Carnival, Awkward Flirting, Crack, Euphemisms, Fortune Telling, M/M, Nothing but crack, Richard's horrendous shirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 03:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17174822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nara_ism/pseuds/Nara_ism
Summary: Paul visits a traveling carnival and ends up meeting Richard, the local Oracle.





	Balls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [followthecreeper (insibbegerest)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insibbegerest/gifts).



> A Christmas gift to my dear friend, followthecreeper. This AU is one of many that we invented during our sleepless nights and should not ever be taken seriously <3  
> Enjoy~

It has been some time since Paul went out with his friends like this. The spring was in full bloom and for once, Berlin wasn’t drenched in rain. Him and a couple of his friends tried to come up with the most unusual way to spend their free weekend, when Schneider out of boredom mentioned the travelling carnival that had just arrived and has settled near his apartment in a cosy little park nearby. Paul was expecting they’d go and get drunk, maybe visit a strip club but not certainly a damn carnival. _That shit is for kids_ , he thought. Nonetheless, after some slight persuasion from the rest of his friends, surprisingly even Flake was for such an idea, he agreed to come with them and spend his precious free time among hordes of families with overenthusiastic little kids.

So Paul met his friends on a Friday morning in front of Schneider’s apartment, already joining waiting Till.

“And I thought I’d be the last one here,” Paul smiled as he approached his friend, “It’s good to see you, man.”

“Hey,” Till laughed as he blew cigarette smoke out of his nose, “I thought so too, but Flake and Oli got stuck in the traffic, so they’ll meet us there and Schneider should be here any minute.”

The bigger man was right, after he finished his cigarette and carelessly threw it into the water drain, the door behind them opened and a very giddy Schneider appeared, “Hey guys. Ready for today?”

…

It wasn’t as bad as Paul had originally thought. After meeting with the rest of his friends they headed straight for the nearest food stand and with beers in their hands they entered the carnival’s area. The air was pleasant, the sky was clear and promising of a nice sunny day. From all sides they were greeted by various smells of sweets, baked goods and meats, accompanied by joyous shouts and laughs, children’s squeals mixing up with the merry voices of the vendors who tried to sell their goods.

Soon enough, the guys found themselves among the masses, cruising from one tent to another to a stall, enjoying the atmosphere around them. By noon they managed to get slightly buzzed, laughing at anything and feeling much more relaxed.

“Oh look,” Till stopped Paul by raising his arm up, making the smaller man stumble into it and spill some of his beer, “They’ve got a shooting gallery!” He turned to the rest of the guys, eyes sparkling with excitement, “Who wants to go?”

“Not me, I’ve been in a search of a bathroom for the past damn 30 minutes,” Flake kept turning around, unsuccessfully finding any signs leading to his salvation.

“I’ve seen some by the entrance,” Oliver nodded towards where they came from, “anyway, does anybody know where did Schneider go? I think we lost him.”

After a proper inspection of their group they indeed discovered that Schneider was missing.

“Maybe he went back to one of the stalls, I could see how he was _trying_ to flirt with the seller,” Till smirked, “don’t know who was cringing more, if me or that girl. Anyway, who wants to have a go?”

“I’m in!” Paul grinned and went straight to the counter of the gallery. Till raised his eyebrows in expectation at the other two guys, waiting for them to decide. Oli followed Paul while Flake stepped back.

“I’ll find you guys when I’m done.”

“Okay, we’ll be here,” Till turned towards the shooting range and saw as the guys were already picking up their pneumatic rifles. He saw that while Oli had opted for trying to hit moving metal ducks, while the smaller, constantly giggling man was aiming at a bunch of paper roses.

“Who are they gonna be for, Paulchen?” Till jokingly nudged Paul, making him miss his target.

“Oh, fuck you!” Paul grumbled as he looked up to see just how much he missed, “I don’t know yet. Maybe for myself. Now go bother Oli.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’m gonna try it too, move aside,” Till waved at the owner, an eccentric man with purple hair, shaved sides and a coat that had just _too many_ colours on it.

“You’re gonna have to wait, can’t have too many people shooting here,” he tapped the counter and gestured towards the targets.

“Fine, at least I’ll show them how it’s done,” just as he said that he hard a victorious ‘ _ha!_ ’ next to him.

Paul rose from his position and peeked from behind his rifle, seeing as a small bouquet of red paper roses fell down, “you were saying something, Till?”

Till rolled his eyes at the grinning man and took the rifle from his hands, “my turn.”

“Jesus you’re like kids,” Oliver mumbled as he yet precisely headshoted one of the poor ducks.

Paul stealthily rounded Till and stopped behind Oliver, holding his roses in one hand while he jabbed the fingers of his other hand mercilessly into the tall man’s side.

“Shit!” Oli shouted as he jerked to the side, accidentally firing into the ceiling.

“Hey, stop messing around, you could hurt someone!” the owner said, annoyed yet still somehow amused by the three tipsy men.

“Sorry, sorry,” Paul put his hands together and bowed a couple of times slowly backing away from the men, “I’m gonna go and find the bathroom too, yeah?” He patted Till on his shoulder, not realizing that it’ll disturb the other man.

“Fu-yeah, go, go,” Till shooed him away absentmindedly.

So Paul began weaving through the other visitors, which was a little bit more difficult as it was already afternoon and his drunk-ish state didn’t help him either. He wanted to find someplace less crowded so he turned away from the center and headed the opposite way, further into the park. Thankfully, there were not too many people and the trees nicely shadowed him from the warm sun.

Without much problem Paul found another set of toilets and quickly made use of them, feeling much better than before. After he washed his hands he decided to stroll for a little bit as he was sure the guys won’t miss him so soon. He walked around, twirling his roses and looking over the various tents set along the path. What caught his eye was one of the tents, set further behind, shadowed by the trees’ branches. The red and black colours were quite different from the other ones, as most of the tents were coloured in bright colours, trying to lure potential customers in.

Paul’s curiosity could not let him rest, he moved closer and then peeked behind one of the slightly opened flaps. The material was quite thick and heavy, therefore there was almost to no light. Instead there were lowly set salt lamps all around, accompanied by various candles of all shapes and sizes. He was also immediately hit with a strong smell of scented oils, lavender and what he recognized as cigarette smoke. He decided to walk in, lured by the strange environment and the dancing lights across the sides of the tent. As he got inside and the flaps closed behind him, the light became even lower and it took his eyes some time before he got used to it. Paul twisted around on his heels taking everything in; the lamps, the dried herbs, old rugs and all kinds of knick knacks scattered or hanged around. He begun inspecting one of the many dream catchers when he heard a voice behind him.

“Well, well, well. I did not expect a customer so soon today,” a male voice said, oddly hushed by the tent’s strong isolation.

Paul turned around and could see a man emerge from another set of flaps that were bisecting the tent in two thirds.

“Or did you just get lost?” the man spoke, now stepping into the light of the lamps.

Paul’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw him. The man was wearing the most ostentatious shirt he has ever seen. Dozens of patterns were scattered across the shirt, colours clashing each other making Paul’s eyes hurt even in the dim light. On top of that the buttons looked like they were just barely holding the shirt together. He had the first two buttons opened, revealing a studded _choker_ decorating his neck. Paul could not see what kind of jeans he was wearing as there was a table between them which he was thankful for. When the stranger moved even more into the light, Paul had the chance of seeing the heavily gelled locks, dubious amounts of eyeliner and a freshly lit cigarette hanging between the man’s lips.

And yet, somehow, Paul was enticed. Under the layers of what could only be described as “what-the-fuck-ness” he could see the man was handsome, in his own weird way.

“Well?” the man puffed a cloud of smoke, “Why are you here?”

“I-uh, don’t know?” Paul shrugged and smiled towards the man, “just found this tent interesting and wanted to know what’s going on.”

“Huh,” the man looked thoughtful for a moment, glancing at Paul himself, “Well, why don’t you take a seat while you’re here.”

Paul watched as the man sat behind the table and lit a few candles on it, revealing yet another batch of crystals laying across its surface.

Paul slowly moved towards the man and as he was slowly sitting down he asked, “So what’s exactly that you do-“ he was interrupted as the man yanked a cloth from  a mound in the middle of the table, revealing a crystal ball on a small pedestal, “-oh, _that_.”

“What’s your name?” the man asked, sucking on his cigarette one last time before throwing it into an ashtray.

“Paul,” Paul sceptically smiled. He didn’t really believe in fortune telling or any kind of witchcraft, yet it sounded as a great opportunity of how to spend the rest of his afternoon. Plus, the guy had a nice face to look at.

“Nice to meet you, Paul. I’m Richard,” the now introduced man said, faintly smirking as he laid his arms on top of the table, with the inside of his palms up. He slowly lifted his gaze back up to Paul, slightly curling his fingertips. Paul discovered they were painted with silver nail polish.

“Have you ever been to a place like this?” Richard asked, scrutinizing Paul’s expression.

“Not really, no.”

“Give me your hands,” he moved his fingers again and waited for the smaller man to obey.

Paul raised his eyebrows in question, not really wanting to do anything weird. Still, he gently laid his hands on top of the stranger’s, just out of spite so he could stop Richard from smirking. It made him nervous. Once he laid them down, he immediately felt the pleasant warmth and surprising smoothness of the other man’s hands. Richard himself let out a small gasp, which he tried to mask with a cough but Paul’s senses knew he did not inhale his spit or anything.

“Hmm, you’ve had quite an interesting past, right?” Richard tried to get busy with his craft, before he could embarrass himself even more, “are you by any chance a musician?” Richard once again raised his eyes to look at Paul. By Paul’s surprised expression he knew he was right.

“I- yeah. I am.”

“A guitarist?”

“Yes- how the hell do you know that?” Paul looked in alarm at the man, nervously squeezing his fingers.

“Well, it’s not that difficult, really. I used to play on a guitar too, I know how a guitarist’s hands look like,” he winked at the man, squeezing his fingers back.

“Oookay,” Paul was still weirded out, but more intrigued more than before. He collected his thoughts and with a slow exhale he continued, “I thought you’re gonna tell me about my future, though. I know my past already,” now was his time to smile back at Richard.

“Of course, I just need to get to know my subject a little bit before I start.”

“Subject, huh?”

“Or a customer, if it bothers you. Now let’s get back to work,” Richard looked back at the other man’s hands and tried to focus. It was quite difficult; the man was snarky, had a nice, provocative smile and happened to be, _oh just so his type_. He grabbed his hands and inspected all the lines, scars, and wrinkles running across them, touching them more than was necessary (Paul didn’t have to know).  So Richard tried to guess as much as he could and most of the times he was right, be it some memories connected with Paul’s childhood or recent past. And any time he was wrong he really didn’t mind, as Paul always let out a giggle, quickly correcting his mistake. Before he let the other man’s hands go, he turned them around and let them slowly slip out of his fingers. He noticed that his right hand didn’t brush over any wedding ring. _That’s good_ , Richard smiled to himself, _I might as well have a try_.

“Well then,” Richard sighed as he slowly moved his hands to the crystal ball, “you’re quite a catch.”

“Oh, am I?” Paul smiled.

“Well, most of the time I do this with people that are not that interesting.”

“And what’s so interesting about me?” Paul smiled, keeping his hands on the table and raising one to support his head.

“A lot of things,” Richard bit into his lip, nervously dragging the crystal ball closer to himself, “A musician with interesting past, who lived in Russia for some time aaand is single? People like you are hard to find,” he quickly glanced at the ever smiling man, “or is there a lady? I don’t need to know your past to see that you don’t have ring.”

Paul laughed, more and more enjoying their exchanges. That man was naïve and adorable.

“Again, you’re right, no girlfriend,” he tsked as if in disappointment, “no boyfriend either,” he looked up, waiting for Richard’s reaction.

“Ah, see? I’m quite good.”

“Yes, you are,” Paul really liked how he could see Ricard’s eyes ticking from one side to another. He bet that he was blushing too, though the low light hid this detail from him.

“Aaanyway, let’s get to it,” Richard said much louder than necessary, just to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his guts. _Were those butterflies?_

“Let’s,” Richard could swear he saw a wink.

The fortune teller then rather focused on his work. Firstly, he put his hands closer to the ball, so he could connect with it and start feeling what was awaiting the other man in the future. Once he felt the energy, as if tiny electric shocks were touching his fingers, he slowly moved his hands closer to the crystal ball, letting his fingertips glide over the smooth cool surface. He closed his eyes and hummed in concentration, focusing on the images that slowly began to take form in his mind.

“So? Anything that’ll make me even more interesting?” He could hear another snigger from the other man, his voice was almost overflowing with sarcasm.

“Patience, the things that may appear don’t have to be nice.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Uh-huh,” Richard hummed once more. Slowly blurred images and flashes of Paul’ life started to appear and he couldn’t stop the smirk which once again found its way onto his face.

A pause. The smirk turned into a smile.

“Do you own a cat?”

“No.”

“You will be. A big one, quite fluffy too. Enjoy having its hair everywhere,” Richard teased with his eyes still closed and his fingers slowly running over the ball. Not long after another image appeared.

“What about concerts? Do you still perform?”

“Not as much as we would like to, a small club once a month is a miracle for us.”

“I see you in front of hundreds, maybe thousands of people.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I do, an you’re really enjoying yourself on the stag-“ he had to pause, Richard did not expect himself to be there too, also holding a guitar.

“Do I? And what am I doing there? Running around with a gigantic flamethrower?” Paul laughed, not really believing what he was hearing.

“That I can’t see. Now I can only see you,” Richard managed to open his eyes for a bit, coming face to face with the smiling man.

“Well, you’re looking at me.”

“Yeah.”

Paul raised his eyebrows.

To answer it, Richard rolled his eyes and closed them again, smiling at the other man’s stubbornness.

The next thing he saw, was Paul laughing with somebody, lovingly holding them around their waist and whispering sweet nothings into their ear. Richard could not stop the wave of disappointment that washed over him, he definitely saw Paul’s future partner. His hands froze in place as he tried to get a better image.

He focused on it, dropping his smile and frowning a bit as he squeezed his eyes as if he tried to squint. The scene was getting a bit sharper maybe he could recognize-

“Why the long face, Richard?” Paul was still teasing.

“Um,”

“So what do you see in my future?”

“Myself,” he did not dare to open his eyes. He already felt how his cheeks were burning in embarrassment; the person he saw was indeed him, though he himself could not believe it.

“Really now?” Richard heard the tapping of fingers against the table. He slowly opened his eyes as if the light could blind him and saw the man amusingly staring at him, his head still supported by his hand, the other playfully tapping against the covered surface, “And what are doing in my future?”

“Aah, well- y’know, stuff and things,” Richard stammered, looking to the side and reaching behind himself to bashfully scratch his neck.

“Maybe I could have a look too, no? You oracles and your mysterious ways of speaking have me a bit confused.”

“I-I don’t think you’ll find anything, you don’t know how to use it-“

Yet Richard couldn’t say anything else as Paul dragged the ball to himself, mimicking Richard in every move. He tried to appear as serious as possible, closing his eyes as well and deeply sighing, though the corners of his mouth still kept tugging themselves into an involuntary smile.

“Hmm, let me see this future of mine, hmm. I can see many things, such as how I’m gonna get scolded by the rest of the guys for disappearing for so long,” he opened his eyes and grinned at Richard, who was in the process of lightning a new cigarette, “but that’s not important right now. Let’s see what your future holds,” he paused, opened his eyes and looked at the other man, “or well, what _our_ future holds,” he winked and closed his eyes again.

Paul had to hold his laugh as he could hear the other man trying not to choke on the smoke he just inhaled. While he pretended to be deep in concentration, Paul rather focused on the dilemma sitting in front of him. Though absolutely weird, the man was still handsome, had a pleasant smile and seemed to be a good person, therefore Paul was interested if he could get to know him better. On the other hand, Richard was a horribly dressed fortune teller with a sense of diva-ness following him around. Still, Paul was curious.

He slowly dragged his fingers across the ball, mockingly frowning as he started to lowly hum, “Hmm, yes a picture is appearing in my mind, yes,” he opened one eye and saw Richard, impatiently sucking on his cigarette and looking ever so flustered. Paul closed it again and with unguarded smile continued, “In fact, I can see you on a date… with me.”

The smaller man waited for a bit and then opened his eyes again, slowly raising his eyebrows, “Well, do you think what I saw was correct?”

Richard stared back at the man, his cigarette openly hanging from his mouth, “I-uh, well-“

“Yes?”

“The ball never lies, the feeling you get from it, is most of the time correct,” Paul could finally see the redness of Richard’s cheeks.

“Oh I always trust my balls,” Paul laughed, enjoying the painful moan from the other man. Richard’s forgotten cigarette finally left his lips and fell down, straight onto his shirt.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Richard got up and tried to get the ash from the shirt while also trying to ignore the giggling man across of him. Said man was looking around and when he spotted an abandoned pen laying among the crystals he took it and grabbed one of the paper roses he had with him. Paul straightened one of the petals and quickly wrote down his phone number and a restaurant he knew and liked. When he was done he grabbed the bouquet and looked up to see Richard cleaning his shirt with a piece of a wet cloth.

“Is the shirt okay?”

“Yeah, I think it should be. I don’t want to ruin it, it was quite expensive.”

“Oh, I can imagine. Anyway,” Paul stood up, straightening his jacket, “My friends are certainly looking for me and I don’t want to make them worry,” Paul smiled, “So thank you and I’ll be going.”

“Already?” Richard stopped and with a fading smile and a disappointed look gazed towards the smaller man, “I could have you here much longer, it’s no problem,” the whole time Richard secretly hoped that Paul was not just making fun of him but if he wanted to disappear now it most likely meant that he overstepped his boundaries and the man wanted to get away from him. What a pity.

“I know you could, but then the guys would kill me. But don’t worry,” Paul raised the flowers and handed them over, “I think we’ll see each other soon enough.”

Incomprehensibly, Richard accepted the roses. His breath got stuck in his throat once more as Paul’s fingers brushed over his for longer than necessary. He looked down and watched as Paul’s index finger tapped one of the petals, pointing towards the scribbled text.

“See ya, Reesh,” Paul smiled and then turned around, quickly leaving Richard in the tent alone.

The man looked at the roses and had to smile like an idiot; it looked like he’s really gonna go on a date.

…

The Sunday evening air was warm and filled with the smells from the nearby restaurants and kiosks spread out around the square. The day before, Paul received a very long text from an unknown number which was at the end signed with Richard’s name. He was happy that the man had agreed to go out with him so he scheduled their date to be a simple one – a dinner and then maybe a stroll through the city. They were supposed to meet at seven though because of Paul’s nervousness he was already waiting there for over 10 minutes

He was beginning to wonder if Richard hasn’t ditched him at the last possible chance but a set of spiky hair weaving through other wandering people changed his mind. Soon enough, he could see the other man, nervously looking around. Paul saw that Richard was wearing an ordinary black shirt which quite surprised him. Though that impression didn’t last for long as he had the chance seeing the sleeves of the shirt were actually striped with red and white. It also looked like he had at least three different belts hanging around rather tight jeans. Paul didn’t know if he should be repulsed or attracted even more. He then decided that in a weird way, he actually likes it. A lot. As he made eye contact, Richard smiled and hurried a little bit closer to the man.

“Hi, I hope I’m not late.”

“Nope, you’re on time, I was just early.”

“Oh thank god,” Richard sighed and then nervously looked to the side before faintly smiling at Paul, “I’ve got something for you,” he then pulled his left arm from behind him and offered Paul a beautiful red rose, “It’s not a bouquet and not made of paper either, but it’s something,” he smiled.

“I-oh, thank you, I didn’t even expect this,” Paul took the rose and sniffed it, humming at the pleasant smell of it, “really, thank you,” he quickly moved towards Richard and gave him a peck to the side of his temple. Paul could already see Richard’s skin turning red so he grabbed him by his hand and tugged him along, “Anyway, let’s get inside, hmm? I’m really hungry.”

“Uh, sure.”

After being seated in a cosy little booth and having their drinks brought, the two men fell surprisingly into an easy going chit-chat. Paul discovered that Richard is in reality a cook and fortune telling is more of a hobby he started when he was in his teens. He also had a chance to see the other man in proper light and, oh boy, was he glad that he asked him out. From Richard’s sharp cheeks to his big green eyes, Paul couldn’t stop ogling the other man. In return, he told Richard about his band and his life as a sound tech, finding out that the both of them had quite similar, if not the same taste in music. They were already on their second glass of wine when their food arrived and before he knew it, there was a dessert and yet another two glasses.

Both of them were laughing, telling each other anecdotes about their work, how they met the weirdest people and how they had to deal with them. And after a small pleasant pause, Paul smirked and raised his eyes from his wine glass.

“Looks like it’s not always that bad meeting new people, huh? One day you’re all by yourself in a tent and suddenly you’re on a date with your _subject_.”

“Hah, yeah. And it really sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said it first.”

“I know,” Richard smiled as he once brought his glass up to clink it with Paul’s, “I’m glad that you decided to inspect my nook like that.”

“I think I’ll have to inspect it much more many times in great detail actually.”

“Not much to see there, really,” Richard did not catch the suggestive wiggling of Paul’s eyebrows.

“Sure, sure. Did you by any chance try to see how this evening will go?”

“Well, not going to lie, I tried.”

A pause. Paul was trying not to laugh out loud.

“And what did your balls tell you?”

“What balls? I only have one,” the taller man said confusingly, raising the glass to his lips to take a sip.

Paul raised his eyebrows throwing the lewdest smirk he could muster towards Richard. It didn’t take long for Richard to catch up. The wine went everywhere as a big spray of red across the table.

And they lived happily ever after, the end.


End file.
